


sugar, we're going down swinging

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Garage Band AU, Gen, Kes Dameron as Team Dad, author has no idea how drums work but is Trying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22540120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Black Squadron is far from legendary: right now, it's nothing more than a garage band started by four friends, a distraction from the trials of high school (and now college) life. But winning Resistance Records' Battle of the Bands - the name recognition, the cash prize, the record deal - could change everything for Poe, Finn, and Rose. If, that is, they can find a new drummer in time, since their last one's given them the slip.Enter Rey.When the band holds tryouts for new drummers, she's the only entry. A lonely young woman whose humble beginnings never gave her a chance to showcase her enormous talent, Rey's thrilled to take up the fourth spot in Black Squadron.But passionate, cranky Poe Dameron is much more than Rey bargained for.And cagey, kindhearted Rey is not what Poe Dameron expected. Not in a million years.Poe knows all too well that he should learn from the mistakes he made with Black Squadron'slastdrummer, and that means taking Rose's advice: "never fall for a bandmate." But as Poe and Rey grow closer, perhaps the greatest challenge he'll have to surmount is not the competition at Battle of the Bands, but the war in his own heart.
Relationships: Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey & Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 43
Kudos: 33





	1. i'm two quarters and a heart down

**Author's Note:**

> Those enablers in the Discord are responsible for this. :p
> 
> Also, every chapter title is a Fall Out Boy lyric, because OF COURSE.
> 
> Also-also: I’m a violinist who knows a lot about a much more formal kind of music and I have no idea how rock music works, so if I get something wrong, that is probably why. I know absolutely nothing about drums. Apologies in advance for that. (I don’t even know how the percussionists in my own orchestra work so it’s bad, y’all.)

“I still think this is a terrible idea.” Poe grabbed another handful of Goldfish crackers (a childhood habit he’d carried with him to college) and shifted, leaning forwards on his elbows. “We’re going to find a drummer on _Craigslist?”_

“Not Craigslist!” Finn insisted, five seconds from losing his temper (again). “For the eighth time, we’re gonna put up a flyer on one of those bulletin boards in the Student Union. Whoever calls in has to audition, so we don’t have to take anyone we don’t think is… _adequately skilled._ And really, Poe? What other option do we have?”

“I _did_ tell you not to date anyone in the band,” Rose added, “and no, I don’t like it either, but at least they’re auditioning, and Finn’s right. Battle of the Bands is in less than two months, and we’re out of options.”

“Look, I get it. Desperate times, desperate measures. But still, it’s not my fault that Zorrii left!” Poe shot back.

(Rose was right – it was the breakdown of his already-fractious relationship with their band’s ex-drummer, Zorrii Bliss, that had landed them in this mess. But _still._ He hadn’t known she was going to leave the band when they broke up-)

“Yes, Poe, it kinda is, so please just go along with this?” Finn passed him a flyer advertising their predicament. _Drummer needed,_ the flyer declared in huge letters (Comic Sans, of course, which had no doubt been the doing of Rose Tico, Queen of Trolls) above the logo of their band, Black Squadron. _Compete with us in Battle of the Bands for a chance to win $$$! Auditions necessary, Contact Poe Dameron ([pdameron@ufy.edu](mailto:pdameron@ufy.edu)) for more information._

“Hey, why is it _my_ e-mail?” Poe complained. He knew he was whining, but it was the quickest way to distract himself from the fact that his stomach was in knots. All three of them needed the cash prize (and the record deal wouldn't hurt) that Resistance Records, a label famous for jump-starting the careers of at least four indie bands, was offering in its annual Battle of the Bands. They were a good team, Rose on vocals and keyboard, bassist Finn, and himself, but, with his ex-girlfriend’s hasty exit from the band, they were out a drummer. Even if they _could_ find a drummer in time, what were the odds that whatever unlucky chump they recruited could adjust quickly enough to be ready for Battle of the Bands the next month?

Slim. _Extremely_ slim. 

And without that prize, they’d continue on as they were: dead-broke and barely finding practice time between work-study and classes. He felt that his attitude was rather justified if it could mask the utter _panic_ he felt when he thought about it.

“Haven’t we already established that this is kind of your fault?” Rose reminded him. “You gotta pull your weight here.”

“Right,” Poe sighed. “I’ll head over to the Student Union to put these up in a few.”

“You’re the best,” Finn called after him with a concerned glance at Rose. Neither was sure if he’d actually do it; time would tell.

* * *

A week into the quarter, Rey was beginning to notice a pattern: leaving her Southeast Asian Literature and Culture class – lectures Tuesday and Wednesday from ten to twelve – all she could _ever_ think about was food. Not surprising. Rey almost never was _not_ thinking about food – she’d spent too many years knowing how it felt not to have it. She was making up for it now, though, abusing her meal plan to no end now that financial aid and the inheritance of a great-uncle she’d never met had made that possible. Today was no exception; clutching her books as she made her way from the lecture hall to the Student Union, she contemplated her lunch options with a little too much enthusiasm.

_I think I’ll get Indian today,_ she decided. Chicken tikka masala from the Indian restaurant in the Student Union would hit the spot. Maybe some boba to chase it down, too; that sounded perfect, the spice of the chicken undercut by a tangy lychee smoothie and velvety boba (her go-to order). So perfect that she could think of little else as she walked down the hall and-

“Hey, watch it!” an angry, unfamiliar voice rang out. Rey’s face flushed. She must’ve bumped into someone in her distraction; she blinked a few times to clear her vision.

The person she’d collided with was already gone – “sorry,” she muttered too late – but there was a new announcement on the bulletin board in the entrance hall (Rey was a little too bored for her own good, her life consisting solely of lectures and boba runs at the moment, so she always checked), and she scanned it. A tiny smile stretched across her face. “Drummer needed,” she read under her breath. _Cool. I hope they find one._

Then it hit her. _That’s me. I can do that!_

Memories of high school marching band flooded her mind – all of the ugly uniforms and awkward classmates, yes. But also long afternoons after school with Ms. Kanata, the band teacher, who’d shown Rey her way around a drumset – happily, the perfect way to release too many years of pent-up frustration – until she had Maz (as Rey alone, of all her students, was allowed to call her) begging her to “join a band or something.” Good memories, ones that practically glowed as her mind replayed them.

Maz had told her to join a band. She’d never done it. But now she could.

She couldn’t ignore the promptings of her growling stomach forever, so Rey snapped a picture of the flyer and kept moving. But as she chased down her tikka masala with gulps of her lychee smoothie, she drafted an email, tapping away excitedly.

_To whom it may concern,_

_You were looking for a drummer, right?_

_I’m in. When do I try out?_

_-Rey_

* * *

“We’ve got our first hit!” Poe announced an hour later, charging into his and Finn’s dorm with his fist held aloft. “Someone named Rey. No last name, just Rey. Not sure what exactly we’re getting with this one, but we’ve got ourselves a drummer!”

“Someone’s awful chipper,” Rose deadpanned, sifting through a textbook from her place on Poe’s bed. (She was in their room so often that neither of them questioned it anymore, and she’d quickly decided – silently, but blatantly nevertheless – invading Finn’s bed would be weirder than it was worth, so she’d colonized Poe’s instead.) “I thought you hated this idea.”

“Yeah, we didn’t even think you’d put the flyers up,” Finn added.

Poe shot them both a glare before setting down his bag. “Thanks, guys. You’re the _best._ Love your faith in me.”

“Anytime,” Finn replied, disinterestedly thumbing through a book.

“And I don’t know if this Rey person is going to be any good, but I’m sick of ramen and a chance is a chance, so I’ll take it,” Poe continued. “We need that money. And we need a drummer.”

“So when are we gonna have auditions?” Rose asked, interested now.

“Tomorrow night in my dad’s garage?” Poe offered, scratching the back of his neck. Forcing this Rey person to leave campus for auditions wasn’t ideal, but not many places had drum kits, and besides, it wasn’t far. “That work for you?”

“Might as well.” Finn shrugged. “Seven?”

“Works for me. Any earlier and my dad will try to feed us all dinner-“

“Dude!” Rose’s eyes widened. “Would he? I would _die_ for some of his empanadas right about now!”

“-with someone none of us have ever even met,” Poe finished. “I don’t want to sic some rando on him with zero warning. He’d be fine with it, it’s just…”

“Do you think he’ll still have food?” Finn asked hopefully. (Of course that was all they could think about.)

“It’s my dad, Finn. You _know_ he will.”

Finn and Rose exchanged a sort of telepathic high-five in the form of an excited glance. “Seven tomorrow, then? Cool. I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, you better.”

  
Hopefully, this would be relatively painless.

(Deep down, Poe knew it wouldn’t. But how, he couldn't say.)

* * *

Poe got his first sense of the trouble he was walking into the moment Rose’s ancient gold Honda pulled into the Damerons’ driveway.

A girl was standing on the doorstep, her look far too grunge-revival to be anything but the drummer. She was tall and slender, wearing ripped black jeans and a cutoff tank top printed with a logo none of the band members recognized (they’d consulted). Her hair was carelessly swept off to the side in a loose ponytail (the kind that Rose informed the group ‘actually takes forever to do, even though it looks effortless’) and a plaid flannel hung loose around her waist. Her black-and-white checkered vans matched the backpack she wore; as she watched them pull into the driveway, she was clutching its straps for dear life. The girl – Rey, she had to be – lifted her face and offered them a tiny smile as they parked.

Poe felt that smile like a fifty-pound feed sack to the face.

“Okay, so she’s _gorgeous,”_ he muttered under his breath. “That’s…just great.”

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Dameron,” Rose teased. “You better not go falling for this girl. Remember what happened to the _last_ hot drummer-“

“Guys, seriously.” Finn had already climbed out of the car (for which he was entirely too tall) and punched in the combination on the keypad that opened the garage door. Turning to Rey, he called, “you’re Rey, right?”

Rey nodded shyly. “Yeah. That’s me. This is…Black Squadron, right?”

“The one and only,” Poe answered, following Finn into the garage. “Thanks for coming out tonight. We really need to find someone-“

“Because the last drummer left when Poe broke up with her,” Rose finished, earning her Poe’s best attempt at a death glare. “So thanks for helping out.”

“Have-uh. Have you got a drum kit in there?” she asked timidly, gesturing towards the garage. Rose nods affirmatively and starts chattering on about who-even-knows-what, and Finn shoots Poe a _don’t-even-think-about-it_ glare, and Poe’s a little too dazed to process any of it until a blaze of sound cuts through the thick fog Rey’s mere presence had draped around him.

“Well, then,” Finn commented, and when Poe finally snapped out of his trance, he saw Rey seated at the drum kit that hadn’t seen use in weeks, absolutely _shredding_ the thing, using parts of the kit he couldn’t name to create sounds he didn’t even know existed. (He wouldn’t know – Zorii had her favorites, her style, and she’d stuck with it. This was entirely new to him.) She was all over the place, no consistency in her sound, but the rhythm she maintained was undeniably impeccable – tight and precise, the clear hallmarks of classical training. _Marching band,_ Poe concluded. That had to be why her style was so different than self-taught Zorii’s. Her toned forearms flew, a flurry of sound erupting from the drums with every motion.

“…wow,” Rose breathed.

“Wow,” Poe agreed.

  
“Do we even need to hear any other auditions?” Finn asked, his grin ever-widening. “This girl is _it_.”

“I doubt we’re going to _get_ any other auditions, so I’m pretty sure we won’t.” Rose bit her lip in concentration. “She’s pretty different than Zorii, though. How do you think she’s going to meld with our playing style?”

“For _that?”_ Finn gestured to Rey, still so lost in her impromptu drum solo that she had no idea she was being discussed. “We’ll make it work.”

“I’d let my dad feed her empanadas,” Poe concluded, still too dazed to think straight. This girl was like a concussion in human form.

“Poe. Seriously?” Rose crossed her arms. “Do you _never_ learn?”

“But Rose,” he whined, half-jokingly. “ _Look_ at her. She’s so _pretty._ And she drums good!”

“I hope you’re joking, Poe Dameron.”

“Yeah, mostly,” he admitted. “But she’s exactly what we need.”

  
As if on cue, Rey stopped, glancing up with them with a huge smile. Her face glistened with sweat and glowed with contentment. “Did I get the spot?” she asked, her voice overflowing with hope.

_Don’t think about how her smile melts your brain like butter,_ Poe tried to tell himself, but it didn’t work. Seeing the look on her face – that hopefully little smile – was just _too much._

“You kidding?” Finn met her smile with an equally-relieved one. “You’re _incredible._ Yes! We’d _pay_ you to join!”

“Uh, nooo, we would _not._ We’re _broke,”_ Rose chastised him. “But yes! Please.” She turned to Rey. “What he said.”

Their negotiations were interrupted by a voice from the door connecting the house to the garage. “Poe? That your new drummer?”

“Yeah, it is!” he called back, unable to fight the dorky grin from his face. He turned to Rey. “That’s my dad.”

“I like this one!” his father shouted; Rey’s cheeks flushed. 

“Thank you!” Rey called, a little shy but enthusiastic.

“Of course, _mija!_ Poe, invite her in. I’ve got leftovers-“

“ _Yes!”_ Finn and Rey crowed, charging for the door.

“Well…” Poe shrugged, finally facing Rey. (He’d been avoiding it, as if she’d know how fast his heart was racing if he looked her full in the face.) “Want some dinner?”

The sparkle in Rey’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.


	2. more than you bargained for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Poe get to know each other; Rose and Finn are concerned about recent developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to @duchessofthemoonbase for the suggestion that Rey and Poe both be closeted musical theater nerds, and for the inspiration for the Jolene bit (partially). 
> 
> Also, ngl, I'm having WAY too much fun making Poe talk like my college-aged, extremely Southern Californian and extremely Gen-Z brother :p if you have no idea what any of the slang means...it's okay. Kids these days, right?

Poe had now chauffeured Rey to band practice at his house three times this week, but the sight of her walking towards his car never failed to make his brain blank out for a moment. 

But that couldn't happen today. Today, he had an idea. 

"Here, you take the aux." As soon as Rey reached the car, he handed her the auxiliary cord with an expectant look. Getting to know someone's music taste was a fast way to figure out what made them tick, in his experience. And he most definitely wanted to know what made Rey tick. "It's only about a ten-minute drive to my dad's house, so you'll only get, like, three songs in. Choose 'em well." 

"I, uh. I don't really-" Rey stopped short, looking at the plug aimlessly. "I don't know...you might not like the music I pick." 

_You could stab me and I'd like it,_ Poe wanted to say, but instead he shook his head. "Nah, my taste is all over the place, so anything is fine. I was listening to the cast recording of Les Mis, like, and hour ago-"

"You like Broadway too?" Rey's eyes lit up and she cut him off in her excitement. "I thought you band people would be total _snobs_ about this and, like, only listen to 90's grunge or whatever." 

"No, not at all. Like, I can tell you for a fact that Finn's obsessed with Ariana Grande. We're pretty weird like that," he said, trying not to look as excited as he felt. _(She's into musical theater? Be still, my heart...)_ "C'mon, just play me your favorite song. Whatever that is." 

Even with the reassurance that he'd given her, Rey had to think about that. She bit her lip in concentration and sat there for a moment before nodding, plugging the aux into her phone, and looked nervously out the opposite window as the guitar chords of her favorite song began to play-

"Is this 'Jolene'?" Poe asked, his eyes lighting up all over again. "Dude, why are you so embarrassed? This song _slaps!"_

"I love Dolly Parton," Rey admitted, starting at her shoes. "Surprised you even know this song." 

"Some people are _cultured,_ Rey," Poe teased, before unceremoniously bursting into a purposely off-key rendition of the chorus' famous refrain. " _Jolene, Jo-LEEEEENE!"_ he sang, not even close to the correct key, and soon Rey joined, and even though they both knew he had a voice like butter, they found themselves in hysterics at his purposely-awful singing within moments. 

"I like you, Poe Dameron," Rey announced after they’d both had a chance to catch their breath. He wasn’t sure if she meant anything by it – probably just relieved that he liked her song choice –

_AHHHH._

_Don’t say anything stupid, Dameron, I swear-_

“Good, ‘cause I’d let my dad feed you empenadas any day,” he blurted out.

_Like that. Don’t say anything stupid like THAT._

Rey laughed, full and clear. “Good. ‘Cause forget drums, my real passion is _food.”_

“Sorry, I-“ Poe was sure his face was bright red by now. “I didn’t…mean to say that. Sorry. Agh, sorry! That-“

“You’re fine, Poe.” Rey looked back down to her phone as ‘Jolene’ ended, selecting her next song with far more confidence than she’d chosen the first. “Let’s go with one I _know_ you’re gonna laugh at…”

“I’ll never laugh at- _oh.”_ It took a superhuman effort for Poe not to snort at her song choice.

And Rey just smirked as an unmistakable saxophone melody blared from the speakers.

“Sorry, I just…” Poe took a moment to compose himself. “I can’t take this song seriously after all the memes.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s great. _Guilty feet have got no rhythm!”_ she crowed, beaming as she sang along. “I love Wham! more than any thinking individual really should-“

 _“Should’ve known better than to cheat a friend!”_ Poe sang back, still distorting his pitch on purpose and still grinning from ear to ear at the sound of Rey’s laugh whenever he did so. “No, but do you actually like this song? Like, unironically?”

Rey shot him her best death glare.

“Right. Okay, yeah. Great song,” he muttered. “Really is great!”

(He _hated_ Careless Whisper.)

* * *

After six years with Black Squadron, sitting on Poe’s couch with a plate of Kes Dameron’s rellenitos between them, earlier than Poe by at least half an hour, was about as at-home as Finn and Rose ever got. But both would rather be having this conversation almost anywhere else.

“I just think we need to be careful,” Rose protested. “Zorri wouldn’t have left if Poe didn’t dump her, and he wouldn’t have dumped her if she and Poe hadn’t been a thing to begin with-“

“It’s too early to tell if that’s even gonna be a problem, Rose,” Finn countered. “So he liked her on first glance. So what? Poe catches feels in, like, four seconds. But that’s also how long said feels _last-“_

“It’s been a week, Finn!"

“So it’s been a week, but that’s still not very long. How do we even know they’re not just friends?”

“We don’t, but…come on, Finn,” Rose said, her eyes a bit unnecessarily pleading. “Are we really willing to risk it? And if you need concrete proof that this is gonna affect...stuff, he's driving her, and lo and behold, they're already half an hour late. Coincidence? I think not!

“I don’t feel great about this whole meddling thing, though.” Finn grabbed another rellenito (they had a remarkable way of relieving stress). “Isn’t there another way to make sure they won’t date and break up and wreck the band again?”

“Other than making sure they don’t date?” Rose followed suit with a rellenito of her own. “Nope, not really seeing any, why?”

“Rose, Poe’s our best friend! Are we really going to keep him from being happy-“

“He doesn’t need a girl he met a week ago to be happy, no matter how awesome she is,” Rose sighed. “If he _does_ have feelings for her, they’ll probably fade away in a few weeks. And it’s not like we’re actually doing anything wrong! We’re just acting in their best interest.”

“Really _our_ best interest,” Finn corrected her. “And that’s what I’m not sure about-“

“What aren’t we sure about?” Poe strolled into the room, Rey in tow, carrying a paper grocery bag. “Actually, you know what, I don’t really care…”

“Why are you guys late?” Rose asked with an _I-told-you-so_ glare at Finn.

“We were talking about how much we both love Ben & Jerry’s,” Rey explained. “So…we got some.”

Finn perked up at that, though Rose was largely unimpressed. “Did you get Half-Baked?”

“Are we actually going to practice today?” Rose asked, hands on her hips.

“Of course!” Poe protested. “Just…after ice cream.”

And, however bad this was for productivity, she couldn’t help but dive for the carton of Cherry Garcia that Finn held out in front of her like a lure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have our central conflict, my dudes ;) 
> 
> Anyone else noticed that I'm largely avoiding actual band practice scenes? That's intentional. Because I have no clue how a band actually rehearses :p


	3. nothing comes as easy as you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Poe realize just how badly they have got it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was supposed to happen way later, but I didn't want to write about band practice. I wanted to write about Kes' cooking, acoustic guitars, and sweet, tender, unrealistically-romantic ~luuuuurve~. To that end, this chapter has all three of those things, and unlike the last chapter, I'm quite fond of it. Please enjoy, but remember that I'm not to be held responsible for your ensuing tres leches cake cravings. :p
> 
> ALSO! The ending scene marks my public "songwriting" debut, oops. My lyrics aren't amazing, hence why I only included half of the song (I've written a ton of songs about my personal life that are nearly all better than this, but it's hard to write a song from a character's perspective), but hey, I tried.

To put it rather gently, Rey was not an expert in social interactions. Perhaps it was a byproduct of her lonely childhood, but it was rather pointless to speculate – all she knew was that none of it made _sense_ to her. People’s interplay – the lines to be read between, the unwritten rules to be observed, the thousand unspoken expectations that came with every interaction and which she inevitably missed every time – was utterly baffling to her after so much time alone. Usually, she’d classify herself squarely in the middle of the “clueless” realm of social skills.

But even she couldn’t fail to notice that something had shifted in her friendship with Poe since their second week of practices had come and gone.

First he’d chauffeured her, of course, to endless practices, everyone rallying around their gifted new drummer like the last-ditch effort she truly was. (Not that she wasn’t an upgrade, but a time crunch was a time crunch.) Then came the dinners at his house (twice weekly – that was the arrangement they’d come to), Kes winking as he served her food – often empanadas – as if he knew something she didn’t, and then glancing conspicuously at his son. And shortly afterwards her phone, which had, until days ago, almost permanently resided in her purse, dead-silent and almost unused, had been given new life by an unexpected but pleasantly surprising ongoing stream of text messages from Poe.

Rey was no social butterfly, but when she started receiving texts containing random anecdotes and music memes from a certain lead singer at ungodly hours of the morning and found her heart racing every time she opened one, she began to wonder if perhaps something had shifted since she’d joined Black Squadron.

This time, when she opened his latest message, her hands were uncommonly clammy, and she almost dropped the phone upon reading it, so that was… _auspicious._ She wished she had a few friends to talk this over with – ones _not_ involved in her band, because involving her other bandmates in her (she had to admit it) crush on their lead singer simply was not a good idea – but since she didn’t, she simply stared at the screen, wondering how to respond.

_My dad’s making tres leches cake tonight…wanna come over and have some?_

And then he’d sent a follow-up, evidently not thinking text #1 was adequate.

_We don’t have practice but it might be nice_

And then another:

_Just us?_

And then:

_His tres leches cake is the best thing you’ll ever eat I promise_

Though she hotly debated her reply in her mind for a few minutes, the promise of sugar was just too much to pass up.

 _YES!_ She replied. _Drive me?_

His typing bubble popped up on her screen almost immediately. _5? He has leftovers if you wanna have a whole dinner_

Rey didn’t need to think much about that one. _Empenadas?_

_Always_ __

Rey glanced at the time at the top of her phone – 4:24. _See you then,_ she typed, before practically throwing down her phone and running to her closet.

She had twenty minutes if she counted the time it would take to walk to the parking lot, and for the first time in her entire life, she glanced down at her clothes – ripped jeans and a high school band shirt that she’d cut up, turning it into a tank top and adding tied-off fringe at the hem – and wondered if she shouldn’t perhaps try something a little more –

_He’s a band geek, Rey,_ she reminded herself. _He’s not gonna care what you’re wearing._

_But he’s always so stylish!_ The other side of Rey’s mind protested. _And you want him to think you’re pretty, don’t you?_

_Do I?_ Rey hadn’t thought about it much, but she realized – somewhat embarrassingly – that she very much did.

So the jeans stayed, but the cut-up South Jakku High School Marching Band t-shirt was swapped out for a turquoise v-neck that was about the closest thing she had to “nice”. _No extra makeup, though,_ she decided. Since she rarely wore any, it felt inauthentic.

Midway through her touch-ups on her signature braid, a realization hit Rey like a freight train.

 _I feel like I’m getting ready for a date_.

That explained the nerves, the random compulsion to look nice when she rarely paid much attention to what others thought of her appearance. She felt as if she was getting ready for the kind of night out that she’d never had, with a guy she’d tell people she’d met “around” and “had stuff in common with.”

She’d never exactly done that before. And Poe hadn’t called it a date, but it felt like one. _Do I want it to be one?_ She wondered.

That was an easy answer.

_Of course I do._

* * *

“It always had been one of Poe’s goals to get ejected from a game.” Kes had to visibly restrain himself from bursting out laughing before he could make it to the end of his half-finished story. “’For starting a fight’ was what he’d always said, but everything’s a fight in in water polo, so you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that to get thrown out. He didn’t. So then winter came along, and that was soccer season, and he-“

“ _Dad,”_ Poe interrupted from across the dinner table. He looked rather pained. “Please don’t. _Please.”_

Unfortunately for Poe, Rey’s fascinated expression meant that Kes was completely undeterred. (He loved captive audiences.) “So it’s the last game of the season, and they’re playing Ajan Kloss High, their main rival. AJHS is known for being super aggressive, so not surprisingly, this guy on their team bowled over of Poe’s teammates who’d been injured pretty recently. You can guess – the kid falls on his injured knee weird, can’t get up, Poe’s furious. So as soon as he gets back on the field, he starts getting all up in the Ajan Kloss guy’s face. Trying to trip him, super aggressive, the whole nine yards. He gets yellow-carded, so he doesn’t stop, and after a few more minutes of this, he’s out of the game. Of course, his team’s mad because he’s their best player-“

“I was _not,”_ Poe cut in.

“But they were also pretty impressed that he’d defended their teammate like that, so they let it slide. Besides,” Kes chuckled, “the look on the AJ guy’s face was priceless.”

“I wish I could’ve seen it,” Rey replied appreciatively. “If you’re gonna get kicked out…not a bad way to go.”

“Sorry he picked _that_ story to tell,” Poe muttered, stabbing his fork into another bite of tres leches cake. He’d intended for this night to be…fun, if not romantic; instead, his dad was regaling the most incredible girl he’d ever met with stories of his high school soccer career. He shoved his last few bites of cake down too quickly to enjoy them, trying to hasten his exit from this awkward turn of events.

“No, it was funny,” Rey reassured him. “And this _cake!_ I can’t get over it!”

Kes beamed with pride. “Only for you, _mija,”_ he insisted, unsubtly unloading another slice onto her plate. “Why don’t you take that one for the road so Poe can show you around?”

_Thank you,_ Poe couldn’t help but think. It was strange how quickly his father could shift from a thwarter of plans to an enabler of them. “Yeah, why don’t I show you my old room?” he suggested. Rey nodded enthusiastically, and with a few more slices of cake but not much further discussion, they took off for the stairs.

“It’s still your room!” Kes called after them; Rey laughed as Poe rolled his eyes.

“I love your dad,” she gushed as soon as they were upstairs. “I never really had one, but I feel like he’s…everything a dad is _supposed_ to be. Dorky, bad jokes, embarrassing, loves you more than anything, great cook-“

  
“All true, except that most of ‘em can’t cook like mine.” Poe glanced back at her over his shoulder. “But hey, if you like mine that much, we can share, right?”

Rey nodded. “I like that idea. I get to hear all his embarrassing stories about you, and you get to hang out with me! Pretty good deal, huh?”

Poe almost froze in place at that, but some awkwardness-avoidance instinct buried deep in his brain compelled him to keep walking. _Is she…flirting with me? I think she’s flirting with me! Say something, Dameron-_

“It’s a deal,” he told her as they reached the top landing. “This was my old room.” He opened the nearest door to the right and-

“I’ve never seen so many band posters in one place,” Rey marveled as she glanced around the room. She stepped in first, too awed to feel awkward in such an intimate space, and he followed, watching her excited eyes dart around the room with a soft smile. They landed on his guitar case, leaning up against the back wall. “Do you play? I’ve never seen you play guitar with us,” she asked.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” he admitted, surprised by how shy he felt. As often as he shared his music with total strangers, acoustic guitar had been his first instrument and was, somehow, the most personal to him – when he needed to clear his head, or when he wrote songs, it was the one he turned to. He never played guitar for people, though he didn’t know quite how to explain that to Rey. “Just…not with the band.”

“But you play?” Rey wasn’t giving up on this.

“Yeah, I can.”

She turned to face him, arms crossed. “Play me something, Dameron,” she demanded.

“Like what?” His heart raced at the mere idea of it. Playing for her and only her, a private show in his childhood bedroom…it was-

_Just about the most romantic thing I can imagine, so actually, I might just have to try it…_

“Actually…” he grabbed a notebook from the bookshelf across the room, flipping through it as he rejoined her. “I write songs sometimes. Not for the band, just…personal ones. I don’t sing them.”

Rey raised her eyebrows. “Why write a song you’re never going to sing?”

“Just to get things out, I guess.” Poe shrugged, as if he could shrug off his nerves. “I guess I could play you one of those.”

“You’d do that?” Rey’s eyes widened with excitement.

  
“Sure,” he told her, flipping through the notebook and resolving to play the first song it stopped on. “Let’s go with…”

_Oh._

_Oh no._

Of _course_ the luck of the draw would lead him to the song he’d written about his deceased mother.

“This one,” he said shakily. “It’s…about my mom.” He unlatched his guitar case with shaking hands. “She passed away when I was a kid.”

Rey didn’t seem to know what say to that, so she nodded, her eyes huge with sympathy.

_I’m actually doing this,_ Poe realized as he tuned his instrument. _I swore this song would never see the light of day, and here I am singing it to a girl I’ve known for all of two weeks._

“Ready?” he asked, though he knew _he_ was the one who needed the time that stalling gave him. Rey nodded readily, and he began to strum, the lyrics laid flat in front of him.

_“It’s been ten years_

_Feels like fifty_

_Though my life’s only been sixteen_

_Some days I still_

_Think I’ll wake up_

_Carry on like the fact that you’re gone is just a dream_

_‘Cause it can’t feel real_

_When I still feel you_

_Guiding every step I take_

_You don’t seem gone_

_‘Cause your life lives on_

_In the things you gave to me_

_Are you still watching?_

_What would you tell me_

_If I had ten more minutes with you?_

_I’m not the boy you_

_Left behind back then_

_Would you like who I’ve grown into?_

_Would you say you were proud?_

_Would you tell me I found_

_Everything you wished for for me?_

_Don’t know what I’d say, don’t know what I’d do_

_If I had ten more minutes with you_

_But I wonder what you would think of me.”_

Poe cleared his throat, as if that would get rid of the irritating lump that had taken up residence there as he sang. “I, uh…”

“Poe,” Rey said, barely above a whisper. “That was _beautiful.”_

(The look on her face made it all worth it.)

  
“There’s more,” he hurried to reassure her. “Do you wanna-“

“Of course,” she said softly, unable to meet his eyes. “Keep going.”

Poe closed his eyes as he began to sing again, shutting out the world as he always did when he played this song. (It was a tradition – every year since 10th grade, when he’d written it, on the anniversary of his mother’s fatal plane crash.) He focused on the sound of his voice, the calming bite of the strings against his calloused fingers – and the moments disappeared like left-behind miles of asphalt on a road taken all too fast. Only when he’d strummed his final chord did his eyes flutter open again to find Rey watching him with moistened eyes.

  
“Poe. That was incredible.” She smiled, watery but genuine. “ _You’re_ incredible.”

That _smile –_

That smile could make him do just about anything.

“Only for the right audience,” he replied, uncharacteristically shy.

_I never would’ve played that for Zorii,_ he realized.

_I’ve never even felt this emotion before,_ she realized.

_Oh._

_OH._

_We’re in trouble._

When their eyes met again, neither could do more than hope against hope that the other couldn’t see the story written plainly across their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these college kids act more high school-ish, but eh, what is accuracy?


	4. you were the song stuck in my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rose have their doubts, while Rey and Poe try their hand at karaoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, karaoke scenes: a surefire sign that the authoress has been watching too many k-dramas. I had WAY too much fun with this.

“Hey, did you see this?” Rose practically threw her phone to Finn and he barely caught it, dropping his fork in the process. “ _What did I tell you?”_

Finn narrowed his eyes, too taken-aback by Rose’s sudden urgency to be annoyed that she’d interrupted his lunch, and glanced at the screen. “Rey has Instagram? Surprising, but…”

“Oh, it must’ve timed out. Click on her story again,” Rose instructed, leaning over to press the relevant icon and (very consciously, not that she’d ever admit it) leaning into his shoulder. Finn stiffened but didn’t kept his eyes focused on the screen, where…

_“What?”_ Finn nearly dropped the phone. “Since _when…?”_

“ _Right?”_ Rose threw up her hands in defeat. “I swear, _how_ did this happen?”

Finn glanced back down at the post. In the short, silent video, Poe leaned against the wall behind his bed with one leg draped over the side and the other tucked under him, looking down at his guitar until the final second, when he glanced up to smile softly at the camera-

“However this started, we _cannot_ let it keep happening,” Rose groaned. “Do you _see_ that, Finn? That’s his ‘in-love’ face! It _totally_ is!”

“Yup, I saw that,” Finn replied, running a hand through his hair. “Forget the face, though, when was the last time he played the guitar like that? For _anyone,_ let alone a girl who he obviously likes?”

“At least with Zorii, they were like…”

  
“Typical high school couple that won’t last?” Finn finished.

“Yeah, exactly.” Rose took a long sip of her kombucha (she swore by the stuff, as awful as it smelled) “This…I can’t speak to how _she_ feels, but he’s full-on _smitten._ And as much as I hate to admit it, there’s really no reason for him _not_ to be-“

“She’s great.” Finn nodded gravely. “You know, if she _weren’t_ in the band, I would be _thrilled._ Rey’s a sweetheart, he’s super into her, seems great. But…”

“Battle of the Bands is in three weeks?” Rose supplied.

“Yeah, that.” Finn sighed. “And now we have no choice but to be absolute jerks and get between two great people who obviously care about each other before things get even more out of control.”

“It’s not exactly…an enviable position, I know,” Rose said, “but, I mean…are we willing to risk another Zorii? This band is everything to Poe and he’s almost lost it over a girl once. So really, aren’t we just saving him from himself?”

They lapsed into an uneasy silence. Maybe Rose was right, but there was going to be nothing easy about cleaning up this mess.

* * *

“Great practice today!” Rey called out the door as Finn and Rose drove away, hoping to ease the odd tension she’d felt whenever they spoke at that night’s practice. Rey was staying a little longer after dinner than they (to spend time with Poe, not that anyone would’ve admitted it); as much as she looked forward to her time with Poe – which was, at once, routine and rare, given the number of times they’d had to practice lately – it worried her. Her forehead creased with worry as she watched Poe’s car depart. Poe, desperate for _some_ way to spend time alone with Rey, had convinced Finn and Rose to leave after dinner with the offer of his car; Kes had offered them the use of his own for the night so that they could get home.

But Poe, evidently, had other plans.

“Hey, was something off with Finn and Rose today?” Rey asked as soon as the front door closed behind them, but the moment Poe turned to her with a glint in his eye, she knew she wasn’t going to be getting an answer to that.

“What would you say,” he asked, brushing her arm with a questioning look as he reached to close the door behind her, “to a night on the town?”

“A…what?” Rey’s face flushed. _Is he asking me out? I think he’s asking me out? But…I-_

“I know a place I think you’d love,” Poe reassured her, his expression so genuine – open, warm smile, cheeks flushed – that she couldn’t help but melt a little.

“But…I’m not dressed to go out,” Rey demurred, glancing down at her ripped skinny jeans and tank top. “I can’t-“

“Sure you can. It’s casual, and besides, you look great.”

“But what if I get cold?” Rey offered lamely, gesturing at her bare arms. _Really, Rey? Are you_ trying _to get out of this?_ She chastised herself, not even fully certain _why_ she was making excuses.

Poe just grinned and shrugged off the worn leather jacket he was rarely without, draping it around her shoulders in one fluid motion. _Yes! Finally managed to be smooth!_ Poe congratulated himself – Rey had the unfortunate though not-unwelcome effect of rendering him completely inept in her presence. This was a win. “You won’t, wearing this. It’s warm – I know from experience.”

“All right, then,” Rey conceded. “So, where are we going?”

“Um.” Poe smiled sheepishly. “How do you feel about karaoke?”

_“Poe!”_ Rey almost shrieked. “You _know_ I don’t-“

“You sing with me all the time!”

“Yeah, in your _car,”_ Rey huffed, inwardly pleased with the idea. _Any excuse to hear that man sing is a good one._ “If you make me sing anything stupid, I’m leaving.”

“Define ‘stupid,’” Poe teased, swinging open the car door and gesturing for her to sit.

“Do you really want that?” Rey raised her eyebrows mischievously. “Because I could go all night.”

“Top five, then,” Poe said, settling into the driver’s seat. “What are the top five stupid songs I can’t make you sing?”

“Britney Spears.”

“That’s not a song.”

Rey glared at him. “Anything by Britney Spears.”

“Noted,” Poe chuckled. “What else?”

“As much as I love ‘Jolene,’ I am _not_ singing it in front of an entire karaoke bar, so that one’s out too,” Rey decided. “And _please_ don’t make me do Don’t Stop Believin’.”

  
“Not a fan?” Poe asked.

“Not at all.” Rey grimaced. “Anyway. Nothing in a language I don’t speak.”

“Aw, but I wanted to serenade you in Spanish,” Poe replied cheekily.

_Good Lord, please do that,_ Rey thought, blushing profusely. “N-no, I didn’t mean that…I mentioned that because the one time my dorm did karaoke, every single girl wanted to sing nothing but Blackpink and I had _no_ idea what was going on.”

“Blackpink?”

“K-Pop.”

“Ah. Yeah, no, I wasn’t gonna do that,” Poe reassured her. “So, that’s four. Anything else I should avoid?”

“Hmm…not that I can think of at the moment,” she said with what she hoped was a teasing smile but was probably more of a grimace. “What about you?”

“You forget that I sing in front of people for _fun,_ Rey.”

* * *

“ _And IIIIIII! EY-IIII! EY-IIIII!_ WILL ALWAYS LOVE _YOUUUUUUU-ooo-OOOH!”_

A middle-aged woman onstage, cheered on by a crowd of equally middle-aged friends who all had long-empty martini glasses in front of them, belted out the chorus of Whitney Houston’s greatest contribution to weeknight midlife-crisis karaoke with far more abandon than finesse. Rey stifled a giggle, not sure whether to be impressed that this woman had worked up the courage to attempt to hit a note so clearly out of her range or cringe at the epic failure that had resulted from that attempt.

Poe chose the second option. “You know what, I’m not sure what I was expecting,” he groaned, trying to whisper-shout over the music without being heard. (It wasn’t going well, but given that that table of women was the _only_ fully-occupied table in the place on a Wednesday night, no one heard him.)

“Then why don’t you show them how it’s done?” Rey teased, elbowing Poe’s side. His jacket – just the right length but constantly threatening to slide off of her slender shoulders – started to slip again at the movement.

“Can’t. My name won’t come up until after” – a pair of the previous performer’s friends took the stage – “theirs.”

Rey stifled a groan. “What do you wanna bet they’re gonna sing something from Grease and butcher it?”

  
“Nah, I think they’re more eighties power ballad types,” Poe wagered. “How about we make it a bet? Loser has to-“

“ _Yo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want!_ ” woman #1 – wearing an orange button-up – squawked, cutting them off. Rey’s eyes lit up with mirth.

“We were _both_ way off,” she commented. “Spice Girls? Never would’ve guessed.” She relaxed against the flimsy standing table (this place was a bit of a dive), which rocked precariously as she leaned on it. She figured it was stable, though, and didn’t move until it began to totter-

“Rey, are you-“ Poe glanced up at the movement of the table, meeting her eyes right as it began to topple over. “ _Rey!”_

She tried to scramble to her feet as the table gave out under her _(honestly, how cheap_ is _this place?),_ falling to the ground with a crash that few heard over the sounds of the Midlife Crisis Buddies’ rendition of the Spice Girls’ “Wannabe.” In a last-ditch effort to stop herself from falling backwards with the table, Rey pitched forward, colliding with something warm and solid and-

_Oh._

“What _happened?”_ Poe asked, gently gripping her forearm to help her stand. The hand he’d used to catch her stayed steady against her waist and she felt her entire body light up at the contact, willing herself not to lose it on the spot.

“I-I don’t know,” she stammered, her wits not fully about her. “I was just…leaning on the table, and it started to tip over. Terrible furniture, huh?”

  
“Awful,” Poe agreed, reluctantly releasing his hold on her waist but leaving his other hand against her forearm (never mind that she was standing just fine now). “It ought to be ashamed of itself, tipping over on you like that. I’m off to speak to the manager-“

“ _Please_ tell me you’re kidding.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Poe’s easy smile returned. “’sides, it’s my turn.”

“Oh yeah, I should’ve noticed that my ears aren’t ringing anymore,” Rey joked. “Uh…break a leg?”

“Thanks.” With one last smile back at Rey, he made off for the stage, dodging the crowd of Midlife Crisis Buddies who’d thronged around the steps to welcome their friends the Spice Girls impersonators back to terra firma. He gave the DJ his request, tested the microphone –

“This one goes out to the only person in this room who’s listening to me right now,” Poe started.

“Hey, _I’m_ listening!” one of the MCBs crowed, gazing up at Poe a little too intently. Rey shot her a steely glare.

“Rey, I know you don’t like music where you don’t understand the lyrics, but I think this one’s clear enough.” He risked a tender smile in her direction (several MCBs, now at _full_ attention, practically swooned). “This is, uh…an old favorite. I hope you like it.”

Poe inhaled long and slow as the song’s opening notes floated from the speakers. _“Somos novios,”_ he began, the words too familiar to be shaky even with his nerves. “ _Pues los dos sentimos mutuo amor prof-“_

“Oh, _Carla,_ it’s _Luis Miguel!”_ one of the MCBs – albeit one of the ones whose martini glass had seen more use that night – shouted. Again, Rey shot daggers in their direction – _guys, we’re trying to have a moment here –_ before turning back to Poe, his eyes closed, dust and dingy spotlights illuminating his face. Rey let her eyes flutter shut so she could let the music surround her, enveloping her in warmth and a kind of security, knowing what he meant by this-

Then it hit her, and her stomach made several very illegal maneuvers, and her eyes snapped open and the world zoomed into focus with new clarity.

_This._

_This is what being in love is, isn’t it?_

There was little to do, after a realization like that, but stand in place, gaping like a fish, barely aware of the fact that she was, in fact, still a corporeal being in the world, until she felt a tap against her shoulder and turned and met Poe’s eyes – smiling, like every single part of his face right now, and she could _drown_ in that smile – and even then Rey was so dazed she could barely think.

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” Rey managed to reply. “Does this mean I have to sing to you, though?”

“Of course not, Sunshine. Not if you don’t want to. Wouldn’t want to make you…put yourself out there like that.” He rested his hand against her forearm again. “But what would you say to singing _with_ me?”

“I think I’d like that,” she replied. “But you pick the song. I don’t know what I’d-“

“On it.” Poe grinned, leading her to the stage and whispering something to the DJ. “So, I know you said no to Jolene, but…”

The song’s intro began to play and Rey groaned. “ _Poe,_ you _didn’t.”_

_“_ Oh, but I did.” He grinned wickedly and a few of the MCBs sighed ( _why do they_ always _do that?_ Rey thought, feeling more threatened than she had any cause to be). “ _Baby, when I met you, there was peace unknown,”_ he crooned.

Rey rolled her eyes, but when it was her turn to sing, she didn’t hesitate. _“you do something to me that I can’t explain,”_ she started off, startling at how _relevant_ this formerly-ridiculous song sounded now. _“Hold me closer and I feel no pain. Every beat of my heart, we got something going on…”_

_“Tender love is blind, it requires a dedication,”_ Poe cut in, glancing over at her encouragingly. More swooning from the MCBs.

_Oh, we’ve got something going on, all right._

_“Islands in the stream – that is what we are!”_ they came in together, Rey almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Here she was, singing perhaps her _least_ favorite Dolly Parton song in a dingy karaoke bar with her almost-maybe-boyfriend, surrounded by tipsy PTA moms…

And it was hard to remember a time before Poe when she’d had this much fun with _anything._

* * *

They stumbled out of the karaoke bar in a daze when the song finally ended, laughing at nothing as they made their way into the still-warm night air. (Florida was good for that sometimes.) Only half-thinking, Poe slung his arm around Rey’s shoulder, and she was too elated to think anything of it – she just tucked herself under as if she belonged there, feeling for all the world as if she did. Still humming the chorus of “Islands in the Stream” to herself, she turned to look up at Poe.

“What is it?” he asked, meeting her eyes almost shyly.

“I, uh…thank you.” Only now did Rey have the presence of mind to be mortified. “Tonight was fun.”

“Anything would be fun with you, Sunshine,” he replied. “I honestly believe that.”

“There it is again.” Now the color returned to Rey’s cheeks. “’Sunshine.’ You were calling me that earlier. What’s it mean?”

“It’s just…you,” Poe replied, squeezing her shoulder. “Bright. Warm. The kind of person you never realize you needed until you meet her. _Sunshine.”_

“Poe, I…”

  
“Quick question. Can I k-“

  
Poe froze.

In the near distance, he recognized a voice. “And they’ve got these signs all over the place saying ‘caution: falling reptiles,’” it crowed. “ _Falling reptiles!_ Imagine! I just can’t-“

“Man, that’s _great,”_ its partner agreed, and Poe’s stomach dropped. That one was just as familiar.

“If you were gonna ask if you could kiss me, the answer is yes,” Rey piped up, and on any other occasion that sentence would have done _things_ to Poe he didn’t even want to try to describe, but now in his distraction all he could think about was the imminent approach of Finn and Rose, somehow in the same area at the same time ( _are they holding hands?_ His eyebrows shot up as they came into view, looking… _decidedly cozier_ than usual) and-

When her lips met his from the worst conceivable angle (his fault) and her arms threaded around his neck and Finn and Rose’s voices very conspicuously dropped, he was _totally_ unprepared.

  
But he was _not_ about to not return the favor, so he kissed her for all he was worth, and only when they pulled apart to find Finn and Rose several yards closer and very, very intently staring at them did he realize what he’d just set in motion.

 _This…is gonna be a hard one to explain._


End file.
